When my friend Gail Warner shared this poem, it felt familiar in a way I couldn’t ignore. It made me think about my birth family—my place in it, how small I learned to be, the silence I carried, and the way I measured my worth. I didn’t see it as a shell at the time. I just thought it was where I belonged. And her poem reminded me that growth doesn’t always come from strength at first, but from questioning what we’ve always accepted as true.
For me, the hardest part wasn’t leaving the shell—it was realizing I didn’t have to stay in it.
Thank you, Gail, for putting words to something I’ve lived but never could quite articulate.
Assumptions
I lived in a shell.
It was small
and so I thought
I was small,
Until I stretched
and watched
the shell crack
Until I stood up
And watched the shell
Fall away.
I lived in a shell
I thought
I belonged there.
I wanted to belong until
belonging enclosed me.
I wanted more air.
I stood up
And the shell
Broke open.
I lived in a shell
That I never questioned
Then the questions arrived.
In asking the questions
I stretched and
the shell gave way.
In asking the questions
I assumed my stature.
Bless the shells
We have lived in.
Bless the limitations
We have struggled with.
Bless the confinement’s
We could no longer tolerate
Bless our courage to
Stand up.
